


Hello, Stranger

by rowdyhooligan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Graphic Descriptions of Injuries, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 21:04:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17128706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowdyhooligan/pseuds/rowdyhooligan
Summary: An unexpected reunion leads to revelations the reader never bargained on.





	Hello, Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> request cross-posted from tumblr: Let’s imagine y/n & Gabe were together/mate, and when he died, in a desperate attempt to do something, anything, y/n sold her soul to get him back or even see him one last time, even though she knew it wouldn’t work. The boys never knew it because y/n just dissapeared from their lives. Obviously, in the end she did become a demon..but one day, she hears rumors about an archangel being held by Asmodeus and she has to see it by herself. She helps him to get free and ensues confused/happy/angry/desperate Gabe and Asmodeus wrath when he discovers what happened and who did that.

As the blade sank into the guard’s chest, you couldn’t keep the grin from spreading across your face. He dropped to the floor like a ton of bricks, orange light flickering and fading as he hit the ground. He’d been pathetically easy to overpower, hardly putting up a fight. If the rumors were true, it was hard to believe Colonel Sanders had left such a lightweight to stand guard. Wiping the gore from your stolen angel blade, you continued down the corridor towards your destination, weapon in hand and at the ready.

When the gossip first reached your ears, you hadn’t believed it. It seemed impossible. But as Asmodeus tightened the security around this particular section of his secondhand palace, it grew harder to ignore the niggling little voice at the back of your head urging you to take a peek. Henchman number two had objected of course, but in the end he was no match. After a lifetime as a hunter, and an afterlife forged in Hell, there were few other demons who could best you in a fight.

At last, you stood before the cell door at the end of the hall. Sigils and seals covered every inch of it, all meant to contain and suppress, malevolent energy present in every curve and line. A tiny window sat at eye level, covered by a sliding piece of wood. Staring at it, you found yourself wavering, much to your frustration. There was no point in hesitating; you’d come this far, disobeying Asmodeus’ direct orders and killing his guard- if discovered now, there was no doubt you’d be painfully put to death. But if the hearsay and rumours were true…

Growling under your breath in annoyance, you reached for the sliding cover. Sentimentality had been burned out of you a long time ago; no reason to let old, dead fairy tales fill your head with nonsense now…at least, that’s what you told yourself. That didn’t stop the embers of hope from sparking deep inside the twisted remnants of your soul.  

“Get it together,” you huffed irritably, sliding back the cover before you had a chance to second guess yourself. The weak light shone through the small opening, landing on a curly head of greasy, golden hair. Eyes going wide, it took a moment for you to find your words. “I would say you look like Death warmed over, but I hear she’s looking pretty good nowadays. Though I do have to admit you look decent for someone who’s supposed to have been dead for the past eight years.”

He went stiff at the sound of your voice, slowly raising his head to the light. Looking at him was physically painful to your demonic eyes. You saw the vessel, just as golden and beautiful as when you were human, though a little worse for wear. But you also saw his face- his true face- the face of the angel and not the human skin he wore. He was…indescribable. Radiant and terrifying to behold, a sight that would make grown men fall to their knees and weep for God’s mercy.

It hurt to stand so close to the heavily warded door, but it was bearable. The warding wasn’t meant for your kind, after all. Tucking the angel blade in your back pocket, you leaned in closer. Hooking your fingers around the slim bars covering the slot, you gave him a simpering smile.  “Hello, Gabriel.”

He tried to speak, wincing as the stitches sealing his mouth shut pulled at his flesh. He knew what you were, saw what you had become. You could see it in his eyes, wide and disbelieving. He climbed to his feet, moving with an aching slowness so at odds with how he’d once been. Gone was the exuberant angel you’d fallen in love with, this broken, hollow shell left in his place.

“Something wrong? You don’t look pleased to see me.”

He shuffled closer, careful to keep well away from the warded door, studying you with bewildered sorrow. Focusing on his human face, it was easy to make out the myriad cuts and bruises covering his battered flesh. Blood, fresh as well as dried, painted his skin. The reek of copper assaulted your nose, thick and cloying, filling the air with it’s pungent aroma. It was nothing you hadn’t experienced before, as a human and a demon. Hell, there were many times when you’d inflicted far worse on your enemies. But seeing Gabriel in such a state was different. Wrong.

“I know, I know, I look a bit different than you remember. Got a haircut, lost my soul…it’s a brand new me, lover boy.”

He kept staring, that golden gaze disconcerting. You knew he was seeing into the very heart of you; for the first time in a long while, you were ashamed of what he might see.

Shaking the thought from your head, you continued, “I couldn’t believe it when I heard we had such a prestigious guest in our dungeons and just had to check it out for myself. Word around the schoolyard is Asmodeus wants you for something big, something only an archangel can accomplish.”

That finally seemed to rouse him from the shock of seeing you. Squinting hard, he searched about, for what you didn’t know. Moving over to a segment of wall relatively clean of grime, he dipped his finger into some of the fresh blood on his face, scrawling a single word:  _Why_

“Dunno- whatever it is, he’s keeping quiet about it. Only his pet human seems to have a clue about what’s going on these days.” Pressing your face closer to the bars, you continued, “But if I had to guess, I’d say it has something to do with your big brother Luci running free. You’re not the only archangel on the block, sugar plum.”

He shook his head, emphatically pointing from the  _Why_  to you, stomping his foot on the ground. Over and over, until it finally clicked.

“Why am I here? In Asmodeus’ hand-me-down palace?”

He nodded.

“…I’m not sure you want to the answer to that, lover boy.”

Again he nodded, gesturing from you to him:  _Tell me_.

You considered him carefully, eyes narrow. Perhaps you should tell him- it would certainly serve him right. Making your voice as flippant as possible, you answered, “Okay. If you really want to know, I’m here because of you.”

He reared back as if you’d struck him. Letting a smirk spread across your face, you elaborated, “When you died, I went off the deep end. It’s a little fuzzy- a few hundred years in Hell will do that to ya- but I remember being out of my mind with grief. The Winchesters tried to help in their own way, but let’s face it, they can barely hold it together on a good day. I ditched Tweedledee and Tweedledumbass as soon as I was semi-functional and went off the grid. Wasn’t hard to find a crossroads, and even easier to summon the demon.”

He shook his head, apparently unwilling to hear the worst of his suspicions confirmed. You continued anyway. “She wouldn’t give me ten years, or one year, or even one day…I didn’t care. I would have given anything to have you back. It wasn’t until the hellhound was tearing into me, ripping me apart, that I remembered angels don’t have souls.”

Gabriel covered his ears, trying to block out your words, but you wouldn’t let him. He was the reason, after all. The reason you’d suffered decades of torture and torment and depravity of the worst kind. It was only right, only fair that he be made to suffer as you had. He was the one who made you fall in love, the one who took you as his mate, and promised to always be there to protect you. He was the one who had failed, not you. Not you.

Raising your voice as loud as you dared, you hissed, “Sixty years, Gabriel. I held out for sixty years, everyday worse than the last. It’s amazing what the human soul can endure…until it can’t anymore. When they offered me the chance to get off the rack, I jumped at it.”

Shaking your head, you chuckled with mock amusement. “Who would have thought that all my years as a hunter could have prepared me to be one of the best torturers Asmodeus had ever seen? That’s not just bragging, either- he told me so himself. Made me his chief torturer, as a matter of fact. He even gave me my old body back as a reward for a job well done and kept me busy once the Apocalypse ended up being a bust.”

He finally looked up, tears leaving streaks across his grime covered face- your words had struck home. Try as you might, you couldn’t quite manage a sense of satisfaction at seeing his pain. On the contrary, seeing him reduced to tears, knowing you were the cause, left you with an overwhelming sensation you hadn’t felt in ages: guilt. It was your turn to look away, unwilling to see the damage you had inflicted with your words. Guilt was a damn inconvenient emotion to have as a demon; it made things so much messier. You didn’t need it, and certainly didn’t want it.

Shying away from his gaze, your eyes landed on the word scribbled on the wall. Why? Why were you here? Why had you come down to the dungeons, why did you risk a slow and horrendously painful death on the basis of mere rumour? After all these years, all of the terrible acts you’d committed, why did seeing him alive rekindle feelings you’d thought dead and buried?

Lost in thought, a grunt close to your ear brought you back to the moment. You were startled to find Gabriel pressed against the bars, his face mere inches from yours. He flinched at the burn of the sigils, but refused to move away, eyes focused on you. Staring back at him, there was a wealth of emotion shimmering in those amber depths. You saw guilt, and desperation, and anger. But you also saw hope, and so much love it nearly brought you to your knees.

Without realizing it, you leaned into him, resting your forehead against the bars, the two of you separated only by the thin strips of metal. It had been so very long since you’d been this close to your angel, the scent of him just the same underneath the reek of blood. It called to the scraps of humanity left in you, the fragile remains of what was once your soul. And in that moment, you knew why you’d come down here: if the rumors were true and it was Gabriel, you couldn’t allow him to suffer for one moment longer. Despite everything that had happened in the last eight years, you still loved him.

Swallowing hard against the lump in your throat, you straightened up, blinking back tears. “Step away from the door- I’m busting you out of here.”

Reluctantly, Gabriel did as he was told, his eyes never once leaving you. Pulling the angel blade from your pocket, you scratched at some of the symbols adorning the door, breaking the seals and interrupting the flow of power. Keeping your grip on the blade- there was no telling how long you would have before you were discovered- you concentrated all of your demonic energy on the lock.

The power in the sigils flared to life, weakened but still very much present. Bearing down with all your will, you hammered away at them, eyes dark as pitch. You weren’t about to let a few squiggles best you, not now when it mattered most. Gritting your teeth, you lashed out over and over again, determined to free your angel or die trying. After several agonizingly long moments, you felt the warding give way with one last burst of energy.

Wasting no time, you lifted the door out of the way, tossing it to the side. Gabriel was on you in an instant, some of his strength already returning now that the warding was gone. Wrapping his arms around your back, he clutched at you like a lifeline. Though you longed to return his embrace, you were wary of causing him more pain than he was already in. Part of you recoiled from the sentimentality, seeking out a target to take down, to destroy.  

You didn’t have to wait long. Already a clamour of voices drew nearer, angry shouts and cries baying for blood. Anticipation flooded your system, your hold on the angel blade tightening. You could only hope Asmodeus wasn’t one of them; the puny stick in your hand would do nothing against the far more powerful demon.

“Wait here,” you instructed, propping Gabriel against the door frame, grinning slightly at the grim look on his face. Before you could think better of it, you leaned in and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. “I’ll be fine.”

He grimaced, rolling his eyes even as he settled into the archway.

“Once we break out of here, we’re gonna look for a way to get those stitches out,” you promised, turning to face the gaggle of demons rounding the corner.

They barreled down on the two of you, faces twisted in gleeful malice. Luck was on your side- Asmodeus wasn’t among them, though you knew it was only a matter of time before he joined the fray. With that thought in mind, you rushed forward to meet the first head on, blocking his overhead strike and sinking your angel blade into his gut. He died in a flare of orange, his body thudding to the floor as you turned to the next.

You blocked and dodged, twisting and striking out in a whirl of deadly intent. They were forced to attack you three at a time, the corridor too narrow for them to surround you or strike all at once. One by one they fell, either too slow to duck out of the way, or too cocky and sure of their own superior strength. The glancing blows they landed weren’t enough to overpower you, only one of them managing a direct hit to your side. You took vindictive pleasure in ramming the angel blade through her throat.

Staggering back, you were left with two remaining demons when Asmodeus’ pet human appeared. You’d never liked Arthur Ketch, finding the human far too arrogant for your liking. He held himself above all of the demons serving Asmodeus, including yourself, even though he was just as sadistic and amoral. Gritting your teeth in a fierce snarl, you braced yourself for attack from his latest gadget…

…only to watch as he withdrew an angel blade of his own and stabbed one of your remaining opponents. Shaking off your surprise, you took advantage of the distraction and buried your blade in the last demon’s heart. As his death cries echoed off the stone walls, you turned to Ketch. Raising a hand, you were about to snap his neck when he held up his hands in surrender, a slip of paper clutched in his fingers.

“Wait- I can help you.”

“And how could a lackey like you help us?”

“You were once a close friend of the Winchesters, yes? Don’t bother denying it, I read your file. Well, I happen to know where you can find them. They have a fortified bunker where you can hide him,” he nodded at the archangel braced against the doorway behind you, “while he heals up a bit. You’ll both be safe from Asmodeus’ forces there.”

You gave him a calculating look, debating the risks. If he was lying- and there was no reason to assume he wasn’t- you could be walking straight into a trap. “Why should I believe you? What’s in it for you to help us?”

“Oh this isn’t for you,” he clarified, “this is a show of good faith for the Winchesters. If you could let them know I sent you, that would be appreciated.”

Before you could respond, a pained groan came from behind you. Gabriel was glaring at the passageway behind Ketch, face twisted in distress. Whatever you decided, it had to be quick. Gabe was in rough shape and it wouldn’t be long before Asmodeus descended on you with all the wrath of Hell. Turning back to Ketch you asked, “What about Asmodeus? He won’t be happy if he finds out you let us get away.”

“I’ve thought of that, and I’ll need you to incapacitate me. I can’t be blamed if I’m overcome by his best torturer, now can I?”

“Not sure he’ll see it that way, but fine,” you said, advancing on the smarmy human. Lifting a hand, you asked, “Ready?”

He nodded. “Not in the face, please.”

“Don’t worry,” you reassured with a wicked smile, “I’ll be gentle.”

Clenching your fingers tight, you watched him double over, clutching at his throat and gasping for air. The slip of paper fluttered from his fist, falling neatly at your feet. Red in the face, his eyes bulging slightly, Ketch followed not long after, slumping to the ground in an unconscious heap. It would be a lie to claim you hadn’t enjoyed that a little too much; the cocky human had always grated on your nerves.

Stooping to grab the paper, you retrieved Gabriel from where he stood, carefully draping his arm across your shoulders. Adjusting your hold on him, mindful of his injuries, you tried to ignore the thrill that shot through you at the feel of his skin on yours once again. “Hold on, lover boy.”

He nodded, his grip on you tightening. You pretended not to be affected when he rested his forehead against your shoulder, curling into your warmth. But there was no denying the way your insides fluttered with something you hadn’t felt since Gabriel fell to Lucifer’s blade- joy. Refusing to analyze the emotion, you flexed your demonic powers, focusing on the coordinates Ketch had given you. In an instant, you had landed in front of a metal door radiating power.

Bracing Gabriel’s weight with one arm, you reached out and knocked with the other. You felt horribly exposed waiting those precious minutes it took before you heard the heavy tromp of boots on the other side. The door slowly swung open, and you found yourself wishing you had a camera.

“Hello, boys.”


End file.
